Your soul is a starless midnight.
Black and cold as the tail-end of December,
And as I stare into that vast expanse of sky I’m met with a hollowness I’ve not yet felt.
An emptiness I’ve not yet experienced as I consider the universe that is your being.
It was a universe I once thought teemed with life.
Beautiful organisms hiding under layer after layer of rock.
Beneath mile after mile of endless ocean water I imagined things living inside of you.
Captivating, complicated things I sought to reveal.
I ached to bring forth these foolish imaginings and see them shimmer in the sunlight...
The very sunlight so foreign to you..
I was once naive enough to believe you would show them to me yourself.
When you never did, I was forgiving enough to believe the walls you’d built were simply too high.
Too immense for even you to climb over them.
Though as I aged, and the frail, tender skin of youth was shed,
I realized you never revealed them to me because they never existed at all.
In the limitless depths of your oceanic mind,
The water is so still and cold it feels time does not pass.
There is no present, past, or future.
Only a collection of innumerable particles which float in lazy, yet mathematical patterns,
And the low, underwater hum one hears while drowning penetrates the flesh of the heart.
Until all that remains is silence.
A stillness which decimates every last atom of the word you despise so fully...
In the infinite black of your galactic soul,
There is not even a smattering of wayward stars to disturb the night.
Not even a single comet to draw the eye out of that nauseating abyss.
There is no sun in the morning, no moon at night...
Yet for so long I searched for a devastatingly beautiful nebula within that darkness.
One swirled with colors impossible to name.
One that would leave me shuddering in awe..
Though I never found one.
Only the silence of the vacuum which eradicated the word I adored so fully...
Even now, on the cusp of this all-encompassing despair, I can imagine life inside of you.
I imagine a passionate, lip-biting kiss sending a beam of light across the void.
The sex like two bodies colliding inside a hurricane;
Terrifying, yet intoxicating beyond reason.
I imagine the blood beneath your skin,
Hot and pumping so swiftly your veins would become raised rivers of avidity.
Rivers I long yearned to trace with my fingertips.
And embedded in the final traces of my naivety, these images refuse to ebb.
They persist in spite of every crippling disappointment..
Every crushing blow.
Every shattered dream.
They live on, fluttering relentlessly and without cause.
Like moths swarming a single, stubborn flame.
I would kill them if I could..
Crush them, one by one, in a shaky, bloodied fist.
But to do so..
To do this thing I’ve needed to do for so long..
Would send my heart into the soil to rot with them.
Never to return.
Only within the cold, nothingness of the Earth..
Would I finally come to grasp what it must have been like to be you.